CONFERENCE OF ABBOT DANIEL.

ON THE LUST OF THE FLESH AND OF THE SPIRIT.

Of the life of Abbot Daniel.

AMONG the other heroes of Christian philosophy we also knew Abbot
Daniel, who was not only the equal of those who dwelt in the desert of
Scete in every sort of virtue, but was specially marked by the grace
of humility. This man on account of his purity and gentleness, though
in age the junior of most, was preferred to the office of the
diaconate by the blessed Paphnutius, presbyter in the same desert: for
the blessed Paphnutius was so delighted with his excellent qualities,
that, as he knew that he was his equal in virtue and grace of life, he
was anxious also to make him his equal in the order of the priesthood.
And since he could not bear that he should remain any longer in an
inferior office, and was also anxious to provide a worthy successor to
himself in his lifetime, he promoted him to the dignity of the
priesthood.[204] He however
relinquished nothing of his former customary humility, and when the
other was present, never took upon himself anything from his advance
to a higher order, but when Abbot Paphnutius was offering spiritual
sacrifices, ever continued to act as a deacon in the office of his
former ministry. However, the blessed Paphnutius though so great a
saint as to possess the grace of foreknowledge in many matters, yet in
this case was disappointed of his hope of the succession and the
choice he had made, for he himself passed to God no long time after
him whom he had prepared as his successor.

An investigation of the origin of a sudden change
of feeling from inexpressible joy to extreme dejection of mind.

SO then we asked this blessed Daniel why it was that as we sat in the
cells we were sometimes filled with the utmost gladness of heart,
together with inexpressible delight and abundance of the holiest
feelings, so that I will not say speech, but feeling
could not follow it, and pure prayers were readily breathed, and the
mind being filled with spiritual fruits, praying to God even in sleep
could feel that its petitions rose lightly and powerfully to God: and
again, why it was that for no reason we were suddenly filled with the
utmost grief, and weighed down with unreasonable depression, so that we
not only felt as if we ourselves were, overcome with such feelings, but
also our cell grew dreadful, reading palled upon us, aye and our very
prayers were offered up unsteadily and vaguely, and almost as if we
were intoxicated: so that while we were groaning and endeavouring to
restore ourselves to our former disposition, our mind was unable to do
this, and the more earnestly it sought to fix again its gaze upon God,
so was it the more vehemently carried away to wandering thoughts by
shifting aberrations and so utterly deprived of all spiritual fruits,
as not to be capable of being roused from this deadly slumber even by
the desire of the kingdom of heaven, or by the fear of hell held out
to it. To this he replied.

His answer to the question raised.

A THREEFOLD account of this mental dryness of which you speak has been
given by the Elders. For it comes either from carelessness on our
part, or from the assaults of the devil, or from the permission and
allowance of the Lord. From carelessness on our part, when through
our own faults, coldness has come upon us, and we have behaved
carelessly and hastily, and owing to slothful idleness have fed on bad
thoughts, and so make the ground of our heart bring forth thorns and
thistles; which spring up in it, and consequently make us sterile, and
powerless as regards all spiritual fruit and meditation. From the
assaults of the devil when, sometimes, while we are actually intent on
good desires, our enemy with crafty subtilty makes his way into our
heart, and without our knowledge and against our will we are drawn
away from the best intentions.

How there is a twofold reason for the permission
and allowance of God.

BUT for God's permission and allowance there is a twofold reason.
First, that being for a short time forsaken by the Lord, and observing
with all humility the weakness of our own heart, we may not be puffed
up on account of the previous purity of heart granted to us by His
visitation; and that by proving that when we are forsaken by Him we
cannot possibly recover our former state of purity and delight by any
groanings and efforts of our own, we may also learn that our previous
gladness of heart resulted not from our own earnestness but from His
gift, and that for the present time it must be sought once more from
His grace and enlightenment. But a second reason for this allowance,
is to prove our perseverance, and steadfastness of mind, and real
desires, and to show in us, with what purpose of heart, or earnestness
in prayer we seek for the return of the Holy Spirit, when He leaves
us, and also in order that when we discover with what efforts we must
seek for that spiritual gladness--when once it is lost--and the joy of
purity, we may learn to preserve it more carefully, when once it is
secured, and to hold it with firmer grasp. For men are generally more
careless about keeping whatever they think can be easily replaced.

How our efforts and exertions are of no use without
God's help.

AND by this it is clearly shown that God's grace and mercy always work
in us what is good, and that when it forsakes us, the efforts of the
worker are useless, and that however earnestly a man may strive, he
cannot regain his former condition without His help, and that this
saying is constantly fulfilled in our case: that it is "not of
him that willeth or runneth but of God which hath mercy."[205] And this grace on the other hand
sometimes does not refuse to visit with that holy inspiration of which
you spoke, and with an abundance of spiritual thoughts, even the
careless and indifferent; but inspires the unworthy, arouses the
slumberers, and enlightens those who are blinded by ignorance, and
mercifully reproves us and chastens us, shedding itself abroad in our
hearts, that thus we may be stirred by the compunction which He
excites, and impelled to rise from the sleep of sloth. Lastly we are
often filled by His sudden visitation with sweet odours, beyond the
power of human composition--so that the soul is ravished with these
delights, and caught up, as it were, into an ecstasy of spirit, and
becomes oblivious of the fact that it is still in the flesh.

How it is sometimes to our advantage to be left by
God.

BUT the blessed David recognizes that sometimes this departure of
which we have spoken, and (as it were) desertion by God may be to some
extent to our advantage, so that he was unwilling to pray, not that he
might not be absolutely forsaken by God in anything (for he was aware
that this would have been disadvantageous both to himself and to human
nature in its course towards perfection) but he rather entreated that
it might be in measure and degree, saying "Forsake me not
utterly"[206] as if to say in
other words: I know that thou dost forsake thy saints to their
advantage, in order to prove them, for in no other way could they be
tempted by the devil, unless they were for a little forsaken by Thee.
And therefore I ask not that Thou shouldest never forsake me, for it
would not be well for me not to feel my weakness and say "It is
good for me that Thou hast brought me low"[207] nor to have no opportunity of
fighting. And this I certainly should not have, if the Divine
protection shielded me incessantly and unbrokenly. For the devil will
not dare to attack me while supported by Thy defence, as he brings
both against me and Thee this objection and complaint, which he ever
slanderously brings against Thy champions, "Does Job serve God
for nought? Hast not Thou made a fence for him and his house and all
his substance round about?"[208]
But I rather entreat that Thou forsake me not utterly--what the Greeks
call `ewV sfodra, i.e., too
much. For, first, as it is advantageous to me for Thee to forsake me a
little, that the steadfastness of my love may be tried, so it is
dangerous if Thou suffer me to be forsaken excessively in proportion to
my faults and what I deserve, since no power of man, if in temptation it
is forsaken for too long a time by Thine aid, can endure by its own
steadfastness, and not forthwith give in to the power of the enemy's
side, unless Thou Thyself, as Thou knowest the strength of man, and
moderatest his struggles, "Suffer us not to be tempted above that
we are able, but makest with the temptation a way of escape that we
may be able to bear it."[209] And
something of this sort we read in the book of Judges was mystically
designed in the matter of the extermination of the spiritual nations
which were opposed to Israel: "These are the nations, which the
Lord left that by them He might instruct Israel, that they might learn
to fight with their enemies," and again shortly after: "And
the Lord left them that He might try Israel by them, whether they
would hear the commandments of the Lord, which He had commanded their
fathers by the hand of Moses, or not."[210] And this conflict God reserved for
Israel, not from envy of their peace, or from a wish to hurt them, but
because He knew that it would be good for them that while they were
always oppressed by the attacks of those nations they might not cease
to feel themselves in need of the aid of the Lord, and for this reason
might ever continue to meditate on Him and invoke His aid, and not
grow careless through lazy ease, and lose the habit of resisting, and
the practice of virtue. For again and again, men whom adversity could
not overcome, have been cast down by freedom from care and by
prosperity.

Of the value of the conflict which the Apostle
makes to consist in the strife between the flesh and the spirit.

THIS conflict too we read in the Apostle has for our good been placed
in our members: "For the flesh lusteth against the spirit: and
the spirit against the flesh. But these two are opposed to each other
so that ye should not do what ye would."[211] You have here too a contest as it
were implanted in our bodies, by the action and arrangement of the
Lord. For when a thing exists in everybody universally and without
the slightest exception, what else can you think about it except that
it belongs to the substance of human nature, since the fall of the
first man, as it were naturally: and when a thing is found to be
congenital with everybody, and to grow with their growth, how can we
help believing that it was implanted by the will of the Lord, not to
injure them but to help them? But the reason of this conflict; viz.,
of flesh and spirit, he tells us is this: "that ye should not do
what ye would." And so, if we fulfil what God arranged that we
should not fulfil, i.e., that we should not do what we liked, how can
we help believing that it is bad for us? And this conflict implanted
in us by the arrangement of the Creator is in a way useful to us, and
calls and urges us on to a higher state: and if it ceased, most surely
there would ensue on the other hand a peace that is fraught with
danger.

A question, how it is that in the Apostle's
chapter, after he has spoken of the lusts of the flesh and spirit
opposing one another, he adds a third thing; viz., man's will.

GERMANUS: Although some glimmer of the sense now seems clear to us,
yet as we cannot thoroughly grasp the Apostle's meaning, we want you
to explain this more clearly to us. For the existence of three things
seems to be indicated here: first, the struggle of the flesh against
the spirit, secondly the desire of the spirit against the flesh, and
thirdly our own free will, which seems to be placed between the two,
and of which it is said: "Ye should not do what ye will."
And on this subject though as I said we can gather some hints, from
what you have explained of the meaning, yet--since this conference
gives the opportunity--we are anxious to have it more fully explained
to us.

The answer on the understanding of one who asks
rightly.

DANIEL: It belongs to the understanding to discern the distinctions
and the drift of questions; and it is a main part of knowledge to
understand how ignorant you are. Wherefore it is said that "if a
fool asks questions, it will be accounted wisdom,"[212] because, although one who asks
questions is ignorant of the answer to the question raised, yet as he
wisely asks, and learns what he does not know, this very fact will be
counted as wisdom in him, because he wisely discovers what he was
ignorant of. According then to this division of yours, it seems that
in this passage the Apostle mentions three things, the lust of the
flesh against the spirit, and of the spirit against the flesh, the
mutual struggle of which against each other appears to have this as
its cause and reason; viz., "that," says he, "we should
not do what we would." There remains then a fourth case, which
you have overlooked; viz., that we should do what we would not. Now
then, we must first discover the meaning of those two desires, i.e.,
of the flesh and spirit, and so next learn to discuss our free will,
which is placed between the two, and then lastly in the same way we
can see what cannot belong to our free will.

That the word flesh is not used with one single
meaning only.

WE find that the word flesh is used in holy Scripture with many
different meanings: for sometimes it stands for the whole man, i.e.,
for that which consists of body and soul, as here "And the Word
was made flesh,"[213] and
"All flesh shall see the salvation of our God."[214] Sometimes it stands for sinful and
carnal men, as here "My spirit shall not remain in those men,
because they are flesh."[215]
Sometimes it is used for sins themselves, as here: "But ye are
not in the flesh but in the spirit,"[216] and again "Flesh and blood
shall not inherit the kingdom of God:" lastly there follows,
"Neither shall corruption inherit incorruption."[217] Sometimes it stands for
consanguinity and relationship, as here: "Behold we are thy bone
and thy flesh,"[218] and the
Apostle says: "If by any means I may provoke to emulation them
who are my flesh, and save some of them."[219] We must therefore inquire in which
of these four meanings we ought to take the word flesh in this place,
for it is clear that it cannot possibly stand as in the passage where
it is said "The Word was made flesh," and "All flesh
shall see the salvation of God." Neither can it have the same
meaning as where it is said "My Spirit shall not remain in those
men because they are flesh," because the word flesh is not used
here as it is there where it stands simply for a sinful man--when he
says" The flesh lusteth against the spirit and the spirit against
the flesh."[220] Nor is he
speaking of things material, but of realities which in one and the
same man struggle either at the same time or separately, with the
shifting and changing of time.

What the Apostle means by flesh in this passage,
and what the lust of the flesh is.

WHEREFORE in this passage we ought to take "flesh" as
meaning not man, i.e., his material substance, but the carnal will and
evil desires, just as "spirit" does not mean anything
material, but the good and spiritual desires of the soul: a meaning
which the blessed Apostle has clearly given just before, where he
begins: "But I say, walk in the spirit, and ye shall not fulfil
the desires of the flesh; for the flesh lusteth against the spirit and
the spirit against the flesh: but these are contrary the one to the
other, that ye may not do what ye would." And since these two;
viz., the desires of the flesh and of the spirit co-exist in one and
the same man, there arises an internal warfare daily carried on within
us, while the lust of the flesh which rushes blindly towards sin,
revels in those delights which are connected with present ease. And
on the other hand the desire of the spirit is opposed to these, and
wishes to be entirely absorbed in spiritual efforts, so that it
actually wants to be rid of even the necessary uses of the flesh,
longing to be so constantly taken up with these things as to desire to
have no share of anxiety about the weakness of the flesh. The flesh
delights in wantonness and lust: the spirit does not even tolerate
natural desires. The one wants to have plenty of sleep, and to be
satiated with food: the other is nourished with vigils and fasting, so
as to be unwilling even to admit of sleep and food for the needful
purposes of life. The one longs to be enriched with plenty of
everything, the other is satisfied even without the possession of a
daily supply of scanty food. The one seeks to look sleek by means of
baths, and to be surrounded every day by crowds of flatterers, the
other delights in dirt and filth, and the solitude of the inaccessible
desert, and dreads the approach of all mortal men. The one lives on
the esteem and applause of men, the other glories in injuries offered
to it, and in persecutions.

What is our free will, which stands in between the
lust of the flesh and the spirit.

BETWEEN these two desires then the free will of the soul stands in an
intermediate position somewhat worthy of blame, and neither delights
in the excesses of sin, nor acquiesces in the sorrows of virtue.
Seeking to restrain itself from carnal passions in such a way as not
nevertheless to be willing to undergo the requisite suffering, and
wanting to secure bodily chastity without chastising the flesh, and to
acquire purity of heart without the exertion of vigils, and to abound
in spiritual virtues together with carnal ease, and to attain the
grace of patience without the irritation of contradiction, and to
practise the humility of Christ without the loss of worldly honour, to
aim at the simplicity of religion in conjunction with worldly
ambition, to serve Christ not without the praise and favour of men, to
profess the strictness which truth demands without giving the
slightest offence to anybody: in a word, it is anxious to pursue
future blessings in such a way as not to lose present ones. And this
free will would never lead us to attain true perfection, but would
plunge us into a most miserable condition of lukewarmness, and make us
like those who are rebuked by the Lord's remonstrance in the
Apocalypse: "I know thy works, that thou art neither hot nor
cold. I would that thou wert hot or cold. But now thou art lukewarm,
and I will forthwith spue thee out of my mouth;"[221] were it not that these contentions
which rise up on both sides disturb and destroy this condition of
lukewarmness. For when we give in to this free will of ours and want
to let ourselves go in the direction of this slackness, at once the
desires of the flesh start up, and injure us with their sinful
passions, and do not suffer us to continue in that state of purity in
which we delight, and allure us to that cold and thorny path of
pleasure which we have to dread. Again, if inflamed with fervour of
spirit, we want to root out the works of the flesh, and without any
regard to human weakness try to raise ourselves altogether to
excessive efforts after virtue, the frailty of the flesh comes in, and
recalls us and restrains us from that over excess of spirit which is
bad for us: and so the result is that as these two desires are
contradicting each other in a struggle of this kind, the soul's free
will, which does not like either to give itself up entirely to carnal
desires, nor to throw itself into the exertions which virtue calls
for, is tempered as it were by a fair balance, while this struggle
between the two hinders that more dangerous free will of the soul, and
makes a sort of equitable balance in the scales of our body, which
marks out the limits of flesh and spirit most accurately, and does not
allow the mind inflamed with fervour of spirit to sway to the right
hand, nor the flesh to incline through the pricks of sin, to the left.
And while this struggle goes on day after day in us to our profit, we
are driven most beneficially to come to that fourth stage which we do
not like, so as to gain purity of heart not by ease and carelessness,
but by constant efforts and contrition of spirit; to retain our
chastity, of the flesh by prolonged fastings, hunger, thirst, and
watchfulness; to acquire purpose of heart by reading, vigils, constant
prayer and the wretchedness of solitude; to preserve patience by the
endurance of tribulation; to serve our Maker in the midst of
blasphemies and abounding insults; to follow after truth if need be
amid the hatred of the world and its enmity; and while, with such a
struggle going on in our body, we are secured from slothful
carelessness, and incited to that effort which is against the gain,
and to the desire for virtue, our proper balance is admirably secured,
and on one side the languid choice of our free will is tempered by
fervour of spirit, and on the other the frigid coldness of the flesh
is moderated by a gentle warmth, and while the desire of the spirit
does not allow the mind to be dragged into unbridled licence, neither
does the weakness of the flesh allow the spirit to be drawn on to
unreasonable aspirations after holiness, lest in the one case
incentives to all kinds of sins might arise, or in the other the
earliest of all sins might lift its head and wound us with a yet more
fatal dart of pride: but a due equilibrium will result from this
struggle, and open to us a safe and secure path of virtue between the
two, and teach the soldier of Christ ever to walk on the King's
highway. And thus the result will be that when, in consequence of the
lukewarmness arising from this sluggish will of which we have spoken,
the mind has been more easily entangled in carnal desires, it is
checked by the desire of the spirit, which by no means acquiesces in
earthly sins; and again, if through over much feeling our spirit has
been carried in unbounded fervour and towards ill-considered and
impossible heights, it is recalled by the weakness of the flesh to
sounder considerations and rising above the lukewarm condition of our
free will with due proportion and even course proceeds along the way
of perfection. Something of this sort we hear that the Lord ordained
in the case of the building of that tower in the book of Genesis,
where a confusion of tongues suddenly sprang up, and put a stop to the
blasphemous and wicked attempts of men. For there would have remained
there in opposition to God, aye and against the interest of those who
had begun to assail His Divine Majesty, an agreement boding no good,
unless by God's providence the difference of languages, raising
disturbances among them, had forced them because of the variations of
their words to go on to a better condition, and a happy and valuable
discord had recalled to salvation those whom a ruinous union had
driven to destruction, as when divisions arose they began to
experience human weakness of which when puffed up by their wicked
plots they had hitherto known nothing.

Of the advantage of the delay which results from
the struggle between flesh and spirit.

BUT from the differences which this conflict causes, there arises a
delay that is so far advantageous to us, and from this struggle an
adjournment that is for our good, so that while through the resistance
of the material body we are hindered from carrying out those things
which we have wickedly conceived with our minds, we are sometimes
recalled to a better mind either by penitence springing up, or by some
better thoughts which usually come to us when delay in carrying out
things, and time for reflection intervene. Lastly, those who, as we
know, are not prevented from carrying out the desires of their free
will by any hindrances of the flesh, I mean devils and spiritual
wickednesses, these, since they have fallen from a higher and
angelical state, we see are in a worse plight than men, in as much as
(owing to the fact that opportunity is always present to gratify their
desires) they are not delayed from irrevocably performing whatever
evil they have imagined because as their mind is quick to conceive it,
so their substance is ready and free to carry it out; and while a
short and easy method is given them of doing what they wish, no
salutary second thoughts come in to amend their wicked intention.

Of the incurable depravity of spiritual
wickednesses.

FOR a spiritual substance and one that is not tied to any material
flesh has no excuse for an evil thought which arises within, and also
shuts out forgiveness for its sin, because it is not harassed as we
are by incentives of the flesh without, to sin, but is simply inflamed
by the fault of a perverse will. And therefore its sin is without
forgiveness and its weakness without remedy. For as it falls through
the allurements of no earthly matter, so it can find no pardon or
place for repentance. And from this we can clearly gather that this
struggle which arises in us of the flesh and spirit against each other
is not merely harmless, but actually extremely useful to us.

Of the value of the lust of the flesh against the
spirit in our case.

TO begin with, because it is an immediate reproof of our sloth and
carelessness, and like some energetic schoolmaster who never allows us
to deviate from the line of strict discipline, and if our carelessness
has ever so little exceeded the limits of due gravity which become it,
it immediately excites us by the stimulus of desire, and chides us and
recalls us to due moderation. Secondly, because, in the matter of
chastity and perfect purity, when by God's grace we see that we have
been for some time kept from carnal pollution, in order that we may
not imagine that we can no longer be disturbed by the motions of the
flesh and thereby be elated and puffed up in our secret hearts as if
we no longer bore about the corruption of the flesh, it humbles and
checks us, and reminds us by its pricks that we are but men.[222] For as we ordinarily fall without
much thought into other kinds of sins and those worse and more
harmful, and are not so easily ashamed of committing them, so in this
particular one the conscience is especially humbled, and by means of
this illusion it is stung by the recollection of passions that have
been neglected, as it sees clearly that it is rendered unclean by
natural emotions, of which it knew nothing while it was still more
unclean through spiritual sins; and so coming back at once to the cure
of its former sluggishness, it is warned both that it ought not to
trust in the attainments of purity in the past, which it sees to be
lost by ever so small a falling away from the Lord, and also that it
cannot attain the gift of this purity except by God's grace alone,
since actual experience somehow or other teaches us that if we are
anxious to reach abiding perfection of heart we must constantly
endeavour to obtain the virtue of humility.

Of the excitements of the flesh, without the
humiliation of which we should fall more grievously.

TO the fact then that the pride which results from this purity would
be more dangerous than all sins and wickednesses, and that we should
on that account gain no reward for any height of perfect chastity, we
may call as witnesses those powers of which we spoke before, which
since it is believed that they experience no such fleshly lusts, were
cast down from their high and heavenly estate in everlasting
destruction simply from pride of heart. And so we should be
altogether hopelessly lukewarm, since we should have no warning of
carelessness on our part implanted either in our body or in our mind,
nor should we ever strive to reach the glow of perfection, or even
keep to strict frugality and abstinence, were it not that this
excitement of the flesh springs up and humbles us and baffles us and
makes us keen and anxious about purifying ourselves from spiritual
sins.

Of the lukewarmness of eunuchs.

LASTLY, on this account in those who are Eunuchs, we often detect the
existence of this lukewarmness of mind, because, as they are so to
speak free from the needs of the flesh, they fancy that they have no
need either of the trouble of bodily abstinence, or of contrition of
heart; and being rendered slack by this freedom from anxiety, they
make no efforts either truly to seek or to acquire perfection of heart
or even purity from spiritual faults. And this condition which is the
result of their state in the flesh, becomes natural, which is
altogether a worse state. For he who passes from the state of
coldness to that of lukewarmness is branded by the Lord's words as
still more hateful.

The question what is the difference between the
carnal and natural man.

GERMANUS: You have, it seems to us, very clearly shown the value of
the struggle which is raised between the flesh and spirit, so that we
can believe that it can in a sort of way be grasped by us; and
therefore we want to have this also explained to us in the same way;
viz., what is the difference between the carnal and the natural man,
or how the natural man can be worse than the carnal.

The answer concerning the threefold condition of
souls.

DANIEL: There are, according to the statements of Scripture, three
kinds of souls; the first is the carnal, the second the natural, and
the third the spiritual: which we find are thus described by the
Apostle. For of the carnal he says: "I gave you milk to drink,
not meat: for you were not able as yet. But neither indeed are you now
able; for you are yet carnal." And again: "For whereas
there is among you envying and contention, are you not
carnal?"[223] Concerning the
natural he also speaks as follows: "But the natural man
perceiveth not the things that are of the spirit of God; for it is
foolishness to him." But concerning the spiritual: "But the
spiritual man judgeth all things: and he himself is judged by no
man."[224] And again "You
who are spiritual instruct such ones in the spirit of
meekness."[225] And so, though
at our renunciation we ceased to be carnal, i.e., we began to separate
ourselves from intercourse with those in the world, and to have
nothing to do with open pollution of the flesh, we must still be
careful to strive with all our might to attain forthwith a spiritual
condition, lest haply we flatter ourselves because we seem as far as
the outer man is concerned to have renounced this world and got rid of
the defilement of carnal fornication, as if by this we had reached the
heights of perfection; and thence become careless and indifferent
about purifying ourselves from other affections, and so being kept
back between these two, become unable to reach the stage of spiritual
advancement; either because we think that it is amply sufficient for
our perfection if we seem to separate ourselves, as regards the
outward man, from intercourse with this world and from its pleasure,
or because we are free from corruption and carnal intercourse, and
thus we find ourselves in that lukewarm condition which is considered
the worst of all, and discover that we are spued out of the mouth of
the Lord, in accordance with these words of His: "I would that
thou wert hot or cold. But now thou art lukewarm and I will begin to
spue thee out of My mouth."[226]
And not without good reason does the Lord declare that those whom he
has previously received in the bowels of His love, and who have become
shamefully lukewarm, shall be spued out and rejected from His bosom:
in as much as, though they might have yielded Him some health-giving
subsistence, they preferred to be torn away from His heart: thus
becoming far worse than those who had never found their way into the
Lord's mouth as food, just as we turn away with loathing from that
which nausea compels us to bring up. For whatever is cold is warmed
when received into the mouth and is received with satisfaction and
good results. But whatever has been once rejected owing to its
miserable lukewarmness, we cannot--I will not say touch with the
lips--but even look on from a distance without the greatest disgust.
Rightly then is he said to be worse, because the carnal man, i.e., the
worldly man and the heathen, is more readily brought to saving
conversion and to the heights of perfection than one who has been
professed as a monk, but has not, as his rule directs, laid hold on
the way of perfection, and so has once for all drawn back from that
fire of spiritual fervour. For the former is at last broken down by
the sins of the flesh, and acknowledges his uncleanness, and in his
compunction hastens from carnal pollution to the fountain of true
cleansing, and the heights of perfection, and in his horror at that
cold state of infidelity in which he finds himself, he is kindled with
the fire of the spirit and flies the more readily to perfection. For
one who has, as we said, once started with a lukewarm beginning, and
has begun to abuse the name of monk, and who has not laid hold on the
way of this profession with the humility and fervour that he ought,
when once he is infected by this miserable plague, and is as it were
unstrung by it, can no longer of himself discern what is perfect nor
learn from the admonitions of another. For he says in his heart that
which the Lord tells us: "Because I am rich and wealthy and want
nothing;" and so this which follows is at once applied to him:
"But thou art wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and
naked:"[227] and he is so far in
a worse condition than a worldly man, because he has no idea that he
is wretched or blind or naked or requires cleansing, or needs to be
directed and taught by any one; and on this account he receives no
sound advice as he does not realise that he is weighted with the name
of monk, and is lowered in the judgment of all, whereas, though
everybody believes him to be a saint and regards him as a servant of
God, he must hereafter be subjected to a stricter judgment and
punishment. Lastly, why should we any longer linger over those things
which we have sufficiently discovered and proved by experience? We
have often seen those who were cold and carnal, i.e., worldly men and
heathen, attain spiritual warmth: but lukewarm and "natural"
men never. And these too we read in the prophet are hated of the
Lord, so that a charge is given to spiritual and learned men to desist
from warning and teaching them, and not to sow the seed of the
life-giving word in ground that is barren and unfruitful and choked by
noxious thorns; but that they should scorn this, and rather cultivate
fallow ground, i.e., that they should transfer all their care and
teaching, and their zeal in the life-giving word to pagans and worldly
men: as we thus read: "Thus saith the Lord to the men of Judah
and inhabitants of Jerusalem: break up your fallow ground, and sow not
among thorns."[228]

Of those who renounce the world but ill.

IN the last place I am ashamed to say how we find that a large number
have made their renunciation in such a way that we find that they have
altered nothing of their former sins and habits, but only their state
of life and worldly garb. For they are eager in amassing wealth which
they never had before, or else do not give up that which they had, or
which is still sadder, they actually strive to augment it under this
excuse; viz., that they assert that it is right that they should
always support with it their relations or the brethren, or they hoard
it under pretence of starting congregations which they imagine that
they can preside over as Abbots. But if only they would sincerely
seek after the way of perfection, they would rather endeavour with all
their might and main to attain to this: viz., that they might strip
themselves not only of their wealth but of all their former likings
and occupations, and place themselves unreservedly and entirely under
the guidance of the Elders so as to have no anxiety not merely about
others, but even about themselves. But on the contrary we find that
while they are eager to be set over their brethren, they are never
subject to their Elders themselves, and, with pride for their starting
point, while they are quite ready to teach others they take no trouble
to learn themselves or to practise what they are to teach: and so it
is sure to end in their becoming, as the Saviour said, "blind
leaders of the blind" so that "both fall into the
ditch."[229] And this pride
though there is only one kind of it, yet takes a twofold form. One
form continually puts on the appearance of seriousness and gravity,
the other breaks out with unbridled freedom into silly giggling and
laughing. The former delights in not talking: the latter thinks it
hard to be kept to the restraint of silence, and has no scruples about
talking freely on matters that are unsuitable and foolish, while it is
ashamed to be thought inferior to or less well informed than others.
The one on account of pride seeks clerical office, the other looks
down upon it, since it fancies that it is unsuitable or beneath its
former dignity and life and the deserts of its birth. And which of
these two should be accounted the worse each man must consider and
decide for himself. At any rate the kind of disobedience is one and
the same, if a man breaks the Elder's commands whether it be owing to
zeal in work, or to love of ease: and it is as hurtful to upset the
rules of the monastery for the sake of sleep, as it is for the sake of
vigilance, and it is just the same to transgress the Abbot's orders in
order to read, as it is to slight them in order to sleep: nor is there
any difference in the incentive to pride if you neglect a brother,
whether it is because of your fast or because of your breakfast:
except that those faults which seem to show themselves under the guise
of virtues and in the form of spirituality are worse and less likely
to be cured than those which arise openly and from carnal pleasures.
For these latter, like sicknesses which are perfectly plain and
visible, are grappled with and cured, while the former, since they are
covered under the cloak of virtue, remain uncured, and cause their
victims to fall into a more dangerous and deadly state of ill
health.

Of those who having made light of great things busy
themselves about trifles.

FOR how can we show how absurd it is that we see that some men after
their first enthusiasm of renunciation in which they forsook their
estates and vast wealth and the service of the world, and betook
themselves to the monasteries, are still earnestly devoted to those
things which cannot altogether be cut off, and which we cannot do
without in this state of life, even though they are small and trifling
things; so that in their case the anxiety about these trifles is
greater than their love of all their property. And it certainly will
not profit them much that they have disregarded greater riches and
property, if they have only transferred their affections (on account
of which they were to make light of them) to small and trifling
things. For the sin of covetousness and avarice of which they cannot
be guilty in the matter of really valuable things, they retain with
regard to commoner matters, and so show that they have not got rid of
their former greed but only changed its object. For if they are too
careful about their mats, baskets, blankets, books, and other trifles
such as these, the same passion holds them captive as before. And
they actually guard and defend their rights over them so jealously as
to get angry with their brethren about them, and, what is worse, they
are not ashamed to quarrel over them. And being still troubled by the
bad effects of their former covetousness, they are not content to
possess those things which the needs and requirements of the body
compel a monk to have, according to the common number and measure, but
here too they show the greediness of their heart, as they try to have
those things which they are obliged to use, better got up than the
others; or, exceeding all due bounds, keep as their special and
peculiar property and guard from the touch of others that which ought
to belong to all the brethren alike. As if the difference of metals,
and not the passion of covetousness was what mattered; and as if it
was wrong to be angry about big things, while one might innocently be
about trifling matters: and as if we had not given up all our precious
things just in order that we might learn more readily to think nothing
about trifles! For what difference does it make whether one gives way
to covetousness in the matter of large and splendid things, or in the
matter of the merest trifles, except that we ought to think a man so
far worse if he has made light of great things and then is a slave to
little things? And so that sort of renunciation of the world does not
attain perfection of heart, because though it ranks as poverty it
still keeps the mind of wealth.